And so it's time for another birthday and a few rambling thoughts. I shaved off my beard for the first time in a while, to see my face and because a birthday seems like a good time to do something a little different.
I don't feel older today or old, though the world feels a little empty without Miss Daisy.
One of my male cats, Ash, is on my lap on the other side of my laptop, filling the spot she often occupied while I work. Sometimes both of them spaced themselves along the length of my legs when I propped them on the coffee table. I've been fond of interpreting Ash's thoughts in those moments as: "Great, I get stuck with the shins again."
He's just looking for a warm spot and not really conscious of offering comfort, but it's nice to have him on hand and Monty beside me. Oliver is on the prowl somewhere, perhaps on the second floor.
Daisy spent a lot of the last couple of weeks in our bedroom closet, and Monty often lay in there as well, beside her in a cat bed she rejected for a green towel. He hasn't gone back in there to sleep since she's been gone, so perhaps he was keeping her company. Now, the sofa is his domain again.
Other than the loss of Miss Daisy, I've had a pretty good year. I've had several new short stories published as mentioned in posts below, and I have several others out. There's a certain satisfaction in short fiction and in sending my notes to the sea in bottles.
Inevitably there are arbitrary rejections and editorial notes you don't agree with, but those are kind of signs of being alive. It's kind of exciting to have so many outlets for short fiction these days.
I've become more prolific since leaving the corporate world for my current teaching gig, an experience that's been as educational for me, in my world, as I hope it is for my students.
It's forced new research into writing and horror, mystery and suspense theory, and it's freed my spirit a bit as well as putting me into the company of brilliant and creative people.
I'm fortunate, and I march on.
I don't feel older today or old, though the world feels a little empty without Miss Daisy.
One of my male cats, Ash, is on my lap on the other side of my laptop, filling the spot she often occupied while I work. Sometimes both of them spaced themselves along the length of my legs when I propped them on the coffee table. I've been fond of interpreting Ash's thoughts in those moments as: "Great, I get stuck with the shins again."
He's just looking for a warm spot and not really conscious of offering comfort, but it's nice to have him on hand and Monty beside me. Oliver is on the prowl somewhere, perhaps on the second floor.
Daisy spent a lot of the last couple of weeks in our bedroom closet, and Monty often lay in there as well, beside her in a cat bed she rejected for a green towel. He hasn't gone back in there to sleep since she's been gone, so perhaps he was keeping her company. Now, the sofa is his domain again.
Other than the loss of Miss Daisy, I've had a pretty good year. I've had several new short stories published as mentioned in posts below, and I have several others out. There's a certain satisfaction in short fiction and in sending my notes to the sea in bottles.
Inevitably there are arbitrary rejections and editorial notes you don't agree with, but those are kind of signs of being alive. It's kind of exciting to have so many outlets for short fiction these days.
I've become more prolific since leaving the corporate world for my current teaching gig, an experience that's been as educational for me, in my world, as I hope it is for my students.
It's forced new research into writing and horror, mystery and suspense theory, and it's freed my spirit a bit as well as putting me into the company of brilliant and creative people.
I'm fortunate, and I march on.
1 comment:
Glad to hear that things are generally going well. Academia does have some great freedoms.
Post a Comment